


Fuck You, But Welcome To Daibazaal I Guess

by ForensicSpider98



Series: Love After the Fact [51]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, All this stress is bad for the baby, Altean Adam (Voltron), Altean Prince Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Balmeran Hunk (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Galra Shiro (Voltron), Galran Prince Keith (Voltron), Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Olkari Pidge | Katie Holt, Post-War, it's keith. keith is the baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24782890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForensicSpider98/pseuds/ForensicSpider98
Summary: Do you ever hate somebody and then you meet them and they're actually not that bad so you have to hate them for not being that bad?Also Krolia is a good mom.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Alfor/Coran (Voltron), Allura/Lotor/Romelle (Voltron), Haggar/Zarkon (Voltron), Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Love After the Fact [51]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635043
Comments: 41
Kudos: 225





	Fuck You, But Welcome To Daibazaal I Guess

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's been a minute since my last update. I'll have another one out in a couple days. I've just been feeling kinda burned out lately with classes. I love you guys, and I'm still here, I promise! <3<3<3

“Mom!” 

Keith launches himself at his mother, who holds him protectively close, whispering reassurances in his ear even as she glares accusingly at the elegant Altean behind him. The Altean in question merely raises an eyebrow, drapes Keith’s cloak over his arm, along with his own. He doesn’t seem troubled at all by her expression.

He’ll learn. But for now, she has her baby back.

“I’ve missed you,” her kit whispers, burying his face in her neck. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, kitten. So much.” She has, desperately. Krolia is a soldier, and now Imperial Advisor, but she is also a mother, and that instinct runs hot.

Like now, when she’s inspecting her kit for any signs of damage. He seems mostly okay, aside from his rapid heartbeat, a sign of some internal distress. Well-fed, though she’d like to see a bit more extra weight on him for his growth spurt and season. He’s healthy, though. Fur and hair soft and silky, breathing clear, and he smells clean.

Untouched. At that revelation, Krolia releases something she’s held pent up inside since her son was wrested away from her. The little whore of a prince didn’t touch her baby. He didn’t hurt her kit like that. Thank the gods.

But why? What does a Galra kit matter to an Altean prince?

Speaking of which, the prince is dictating instructions to his companions, sending a small Olkari kit to the Blade of Marmora’s technological research lab and another Altean to greet the imperial family.

“Why am I doing this instead of you?” the green-scaled Altean bemoans.

“Because, Adam, I’m going with Keith to the medical center so I can get some actual, useful information from a medical professional instead of your long-distance boyfriend.”

“Takashi is a physik!” Adam hisses. Keith hums, eyeing Adam with a renewed interest. Krolia doesn't let him go for a second.

“I didn’t realize a glorified botanist had knowledge of growth disorders.” The Altean prince raises an eyebrow, folds his arms. His eyes, to the little creature’s credit, shine with good humor, more playful than anything else. The two must be friends.

“...Fair point. I will go and greet the imperial family. However, you _will_ be going and greeting your sister.”

“Yes, right after this. We need to see her scans so we know how much cuter our kids will be.”

In Krolia’s arms, Keith laughs, quiet and soft. He’s watching the Alteans’ antics with something horribly akin to fondness. “Thank you, Adam.”

“It’s only my job, your Majesty.”

“But you always do it flawlessly.”

The green-scaled Altean blushes faintly, mumbles, “Whatever. Go… learn how to grow or something.”

Adam saunters off with a spring in their step while the crown prince waves teasingly. “What are we going to do with him, beloved?”

“Give him a raise?”

“Hm. He definitely deserves it. Now, Imperial Advisor Krolia, could you please escort us to the medical center?”

“Certainly.” She keeps her arm around her son, the Altean happy to follow alongside. Krolia finds herself struggling to rectify this charming, bubbly creature to the insidious one she imagined. Perpetually smiling, the young prince runs his hands along the wall, tracing the lines of carvings and rubbing his fingertips against ancient paint long since sunk into the stone.

“You know, my boyhood friend, Lanval, came here with my fathers once? He never mentioned this.”

“I doubt he nor your fathers cared about our traditions or our culture. Your friend in particular cared for little more than gossip.” Krolia purses her lips.

“Yes, he said you two met. Lanval is not half so foolish as he seems, though a bit pompous. My fathers… They are many things, but anthropologists are not among them. The same can be said of our soldiers.” The prince sighs. “I hope one day we can be more than enemies to one another, but I fear it is a child’s dream.”

Krolia says nothing, but Keith hums sympathetically.

When they reach the medical center, they’re met by the head medic, Thace, a relatively young Galra cradling a very new kit in his arms. “It’s my morning break, so unless you’re actively dying or in labor, I don’t care.”

“Hello, Thace. My kit is suffering from a growth disorder and is in the midst of his final growth spurt,” Krolia tells him.

Thace, a bright-faced, genial creature and one Krolia is particularly fond of, sighs, brushes a finger down his child’s cheek. “Fine, but only because he’s a prince. Here, can you hold Raj for me?”

Lance blinks rapidly, alarmed as the medic hands him his newborn kit. Keith only smiles. “Number five looks good, Thace. Hope they eat your fingers, Lance.”

Thace guides Keith over to a chair, where he sits in with a quiet ‘thank you’. Krolia registers a spasm traveling up his leg, presumably up his spine and then down his arm. The near-grown kit grits his teeth to stifle a whimper, but his heartbeats flutter and pound. A rotating arm spins around him, scanning him from all possible angles. Keith’s visibly untroubled. He’s done this before.

“Aw, do you have pointy toofers? You got some pointy teef- Ouch! Oh, you do! Look at those toofers! Oh my goodness, you got such nice toofers!” Lance beams down at the infant, every line of his face, his body soft as Raj chews on his finger, drawing tiny beads of blood. Even Krolia has to concede that it's adorable to watch.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I-”

Lance shakes his head, smiling at the suddenly anxious medic. “Don’t worry about it. Though perhaps you have something else they can chew on?”

Thace hands the Altean prince a toy as he extricates his finger, an angry screech penetrating their ears in the moment of the exchange. As the kit chews happily on the toy, Lance turns his attention back to Keith, who’s smiling at Lance and the bundle in his arms. Krolia _d_ _efinitely_ hates that.

“So what’s to be done for him? Our alchemy was only able to do so much and painkillers have proven largely ineffective.”

Krolia’s eyes narrow, watching the tender expression on the prince’s face morph into worry. He’s not at all what she expected him to be. He’s much warmer than his biological father, with far more social grace than his step-father. Charming. Friendly. Charismatic.

And he didn’t touch her son.

It’s hard to hate him. She’ll do her best.

“Well, there is a serum that’s proven beneficial to kits in their eleventh growth spurts.”

“But?” Keith prompts. “There’s always a ‘but’.”

“But it causes excruciating pain for about half a varga.”

Lance adjusts his arms, cradling the kit with one arm, setting his free hand on Keith’s shoulder. “How does it work?”

“Well, Prince Yorak’s growth disorder affects more than just his growth plates. Obviously, without functional growth plates, his bones cannot grow properly. Additionally, with every growth spurt, a Galra’s metabolism slows down, making us hardier and more capable of surviving in the generally harsh environment of our planet. Prince Yorak’s metabolism is much higher, as he has missed a few growth spurts all together.”

“So wait. You’re _not_ supposed to eat three meals a day?” Lance leans around to look his spouse in the face. “Do you have _any_ sense of self-preservation at all? Or am I supposed to just magically know all this sh- stuff. And _now_ you've got me almost swearing in front of the baby!”

“It never came up.” Keith shrugs, annoyingly indifferent even in face of the Altean’s exasperated expression. At least Krolia and the prince can agree on something.

“I’m not going to care when he injects you with some horror goop.”

“Yes you will-”

“Your Majesties.” They fall silent, sheepish as they turn their attention back to the medic. “If I am to treat you, Prince Yorak, please understand that this is not a one-time thing. You will require an injection every time your pain returns. However, I should tell you. Whether you accept treatment or not, you may experience fertility issues including difficulty conceiving, high miscarriage rate, and higher likelihood of stillbirth.”

Keith's gaze slips back to Lance and the tiny kit in his arms. Krolia looks away, thinking of the kits she lost, Keith’s siblings who never saw the world, never took that first breath of air. Now her son is facing that same fate.

“Keith?” The boys turn to her. “You should do it.”

“Obviously I’m going to do it. I don’t care about pain. The pain is temporary.” Keith reaches out a hand, and after taking a moment to adjust Raj, Lance grips it tight.

The kit Lance is still cradling coos, yawning wide as they wrap their hand around one of his fingers, settling into sleep.

“Well, it looks like you’ve no choice, beloved. I can’t leave until they let go of me.”

Thace laughs, gripping his small friend's shoulder tight. “Prince Yorak, you’re going to end up being the disciplinarian parent. I hope you know that.” 

“I can retrain him.” Keith uses Lance’s hand to help himself to his feet, staggering a bit as he works his way over to one of the gurneys. The prince hands Raj back to their bearer with a smile and a thank you.

Krolia sighs, surrendering to the tender expression on her son’s face as he settles his head in Lance's lap. The prince smiles down, worry lining his eyes. "I'll be right here, beloved."

"I know. Just don't tell anyone if I scream."

"Never. It'll be our secret." Lance's shoulders line themselves with tension as Thace cuts off one of Keith's sleeves, shaves away a patch of fur, inserts a temporary port.

"This port will last around three movements, but you shouldn't need it more than two. Just try to keep it dry. And, while you're paying attention to me, do _not_ go to your idiot savant of a littermate for season advice. You come to me or your mother, understand? It a whole different thing when you have a mate."

"That's a good point, beloved. Shiro is woefully inept."

"He really is. But he's a good guy. Like you." Keith smiles, dark eyes sliding up to Lance's. Krolia sighs, defeated. Her kit wants the Altean, whether she likes it or not. She doesn’t need to be friendly, but for Keith's sake, she’ll tolerate him.

For now. Until he screws up. Then she'll beat his ass.

**Author's Note:**

> Next time on Love After the Fact: Keith learns of a possible solution to his growing pain: more pain. Lance puts Krolia in her place very respectfully.


End file.
